Bat-Clan Brothers
by AndAnotherOneBitesTheDust
Summary: Just some one-shots about the Bat brothers and some of the situations they find themselves in. (And fluff. Can't forget fluff.) There are also some chapters that're just bro bonding, so... Yep! That's about it..? Rated T for cussing (mainly Jason, I blame him)


A/N: Okay so… I was cleaning my grandparents' house and… This idea just, like, attacked me… I honestly have no idea what to say about this except for just… It is what it is and I hope you like it..? It's probably going to be like.. a three or four-shot… but we'll see.

 ** **Wow Sep. Just… Wow.****

Shut. Up.

 ** **I mean, c'mon, Dickie-bird, Demon Brat, and Babybird can't be**** _ ** _ **that**_**_ ** **bad at cleain'…****

Oh. My. God, Jason. Do you ever leave me alone? It's too early for this…

 ** **Nope! I live again for two reasons. One, is to kill that fuck-face that calls 'imself Joker; and two, is to annoy the shit outta ya.****

Kill me now…

…

Wait, Jason. I didn't mean it like that..

… ** **.****

Jason, I love you, you know this… I didn't mean it—

" ** **KILL ME NOW," SHE SAYS. I DIED ONCE Y'KNOW THAT? SO INCONSIDERATE.****

-_- … I'm done. Just… ****done****.

* * *

A Manor Without Alfred ( ** **Part One)****

* * *

Dick stared at the kitchen, broom in hand. Damian and Tim stood on either side of the eldest. One had a wrinkled nose at the mere prospect of cleaning, while the other had a look of dread on his face at the idea of cleaning this and __the rest of the manor__. Alfred had fallen ill with a bad case of the flu, and had been sentenced to bed rest for a week at least. The old butler hadn't been very fond of the idea of leaving the housework to one Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Timothy Drake, and Damian Wayne, so he'd been sent to England for the next few days… With great protest. His daughter, Julia( ** ******* ), however, was extremely excited about the arrival of her father and had prepared everything so that the old man couldn't simply say no.

And that brought the boys to their current dilemma.

See, Alfred had banned two out of three boys present from the kitchen with good reason. Dick, because he couldn't cook if his life depended on it, and Damian because he always gets frustrated while cooking, often over-cooking the meal or under-cooking it. Tim, at least, could make rice, beans, and some fried chicken without __too__ much difficulty… Jason, out of all the Bat-Boys, was probably Alfred's favorite cooking assistant – whenever he shows up, anyways.

…However. Jason was still extremely uncomfortable simply __being__ in the manor – much less staying in it long enough to cook in it. Hell, he's still at odds with the Bats. The only reason he's been dropping by recently, has been "Good ol' Al." not that Tim or Dick are arguing or protesting it…

But none of that has anything to do with the absolute __abomination__ the kitchen had become. Bruce was at W.E. and Dick decided to give cooking another go despite the warnings from Tim, taking Damian as his cooking assistant.

Dick regrets not listening.

Flour was all over the walls, seasoning was sprinkled on the counter tops, various liquids were running down the cabinets and drawers… And the three brothers had no __remote idea__ what the hell __that__ on the upper corner of the wall was.

"How…?" Tim just kept staring at the room. He couldn't believe that Dick and Damian could make this big of a mess… It just… He couldn't… "Maybe we should call Jason…"

Damian scowled at the notion. " _ _Tt__. How is __Todd__ supposed to be of any assistance?"

Dick perked up (the way he always did when speaking of the wayward brother) with a slight smile. "Oh Dami that's right! You've never been to one of Jay's safehouses! He's probably even cleaner than Alfie is, __and__ he's just as good at cooking." Dick smiled at Tim. "Great idea Timmy!" He hugged the second middle brother before reiterating the expression for Damian (the kid gets jealous).

Tim shrugged and opened his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang. The three brothers looked at each other questioningly. Tim made his way to the door, slinging the washcloth he'd been holding over his left shoulder. Opening the door, Tim had to try __very__ hard not to let his mouth drop open at who stood leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey Replacement."

Jason – __Yes__ that is Jason standing there with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder – gave Tim a wry smirk. "How's it goin'? Don't tell me you idiots already blew somethin' up… And are you plannin' on lettin' me inside or…?"

Tim blinked, snapping out of his stupor. "Yeah, yeah, come in." When he did, Tim couldn't help but ask, "Why're you here?"

Jason mocked hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "You wound me, Babybird. Can't I just stop by for a visit?"

The younger of the two raised a brow. "Don't know. Can you?"

Jason laughed, and ****wow**** that was weird to hear, as he straightened. "Eh. You're right. M'here 'cause Al called. Asked me t'come and take care'a his chores 'till he's back." He blushed a bit, ducking his head. "And, y'know. Can't really say __no__ to Al, so…" He swept his arms, gesturing to the manor. "Here I am."

"Timmy? Who's at the d..oor…" Dick poked his head into the room, eyes widening when they landed on the new arrival. "Jay!" Dick grinned and Jason was too slow to avoid the crushing hug the Bat-Clan knew as the 'Grayson asphyxiation'. Jason's breath left him in a rush, and he struggled in the 'hug'.

The second youngest rolled his eyes. "Dick," Tim called, "let Jason go before you kill him." Jason's face was reddening but whether it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen, Tim couldn't tell.

"Oops." At once, Dick released Jason, who gasped for air. Tim smiled a bit and watched as Damian appeared.

Damian seemed less than appeased at the sight of __Todd__ but merely tutted before closing the door. "Drake, you ****do**** know how to shut a door properly, don't you?"

By this point, Jason caught his breath and was glaring at Dick who didn't seem bothered at all by the deadliness in the gaze. Sliding his eyes to the youngest, Jason raised a brow and glanced at Tim. Tim shrugged and gave him a look and shrug that said ' _ _He does this a lot__ ' and Jason shook his head.

"If it i'n't the little Demon." Damian scowled at the nickname. "You __do__ know how to stop actin' like a posh little prince don't you?" The scowl deepened and Tim snickered. Jason's lips quirked up at Tim and he shrugged lightly.

Tim gave Jason a grateful nod.

Damian opened his mouth to make a remark he'd probably regret making, before Jason spoke over him. "Anyway. M'not here for you lot. Al asked me t'help around 'ere while he's away. I get the feelin' he doesn't trust you guys alone." He snorted. "Let alone Bruce in the kitchen."

At this the other three could agree. The current mess in the kitchen wasn't half as bad as it'd be if it had been Bruce cooking… The whole kitchen could be on fire, or he could have – __somehow__ – caused a mini-explosion to occur (he had managed that once, and not even he knew how). Dick fiddled with the hem of his shirt and gave Jason a nervous smile.

Clearing his throat, Dick began to tell Jason about the mess in the kitchen. Jason listened with his eyebrow raising as the story went along. At the end, Jason whistled. "Wow. And y'wonder why Al banned you from the kitchen." Dick blushed and Damian gritted his teeth.

"Like you could do any better __Todd__ ," the kid spat.

Jason grinned wolfishly and Tim's heart just ****froze**** for a few seconds. "Is that a challenge, tater-tot?"

Damian seemed to realize he'd made a mistake, but didn't stop going. Why? Tim was betting on his pride. Damian lifted his chin at Jason and crossed his arms, which, c'mon looked ****ridiculous****. Damian maybe reached Jason's abs, and the sight was just overall so… just… ****comical**** , Tim had to cover his mouth to muffle his snicker. "Yes, Todd, that is a challenge."

"And f'I win, what do I get?"

"…I will not insult you for the duration of your time here."

"Deal."

"If I am victorious, Todd, you will care for Titus and Alfred the cat when I ask."

"Deal."

Tim and Dick gave each other nervous looks. Hopefully, this would go well…

* * *

"Shit, Dickface, you weren't kidding. This place looks like you went to war." Jason stared at the mess before him. Okay… This wasn't making him itch for the washcloth and bucket of water to his left, he wasn't itching to clean it, he was totally okay, ****this isn't giving him the impulse to clean at all**** …

Who the fuck was he kidding? ****Yes it is****.

Jason grabbed the washcloth on the counter and set to work cleaning the mess off the cabinets.

About five minutes in, Jason was getting annoyed with the audience he had, so he paused and turned to glare at them. "You wanna help or jus' stand there and watch me like fuckin' creeps?"

Quickly, Tim and Dick began working. Dick was sweeping the floor and Tim went to work on the odd liquids spilled on the counters and dripping down to the ground. Damian stood there, scowling (when ****doesn't**** that kid scowl) and Jason raised a brow at the boy.

The Demon tutted before starting to clean the stove, where it looks like bloody murder occurred.

Satisfied (because now he could work in ****peace**** ) Jason resumed his task.

Hours later, the mess was finally cleaned. Jason sighed and dropped his head into his hands for a second or two, 'cause ****damn**** that took a while. Well… at least he'd gotten a good upper-body workout…

Oh ****hell no****. Were those idiots going to the living room to ****sit on the clean couches****?

 ** **No way****. That is ****not**** gonna fly. "Hey! Where the hell do you morons think you're goin'?"

The other three stared at him. Damian narrowed his eyes and Tim looked ready to fall face-first on the floor. Dick just gave Jason this pleading look that really wasn't working. "We're done and we're tired, Jay. We want to sit down~" Dick whined.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Take a fuckin' shower first, at least. Sit down on the furniture with ****those**** clothes on, and I'll have ****no**** problem shootin' you through the head." He wasn't kidding. At all. Do they have any idea how ****hard**** it is cleaning out stains from couches? No, no, no. Jason's _not_ going to get worked up about this.

He pinched the bridge of his nose at the kicked puppy look Dick was giving him. Tim shuffled up the stairs looking like the dead, and Damian tutted before following. Looking over his shoulder, Dick's face looked like he'd just been betrayed in the worst way possible. Sighing, he went upstairs as well, with Jason following not far behind.

This, Jason thought to himself, is going to be quite the week.


End file.
